Thrice joy­ful night, with bless­ings dight,
Which saw the Sav­ior’s birth;
From Hea­ven high my God is nigh
To calm the woes of earth.

When Eve’s sad fall had, like a pall,
Enshrouded all our race,
As man He came, for man to claim
A light for earth’s dark face.

Th’etern­al Light, the God­head bright,
In swath­ing bands they fold;
The King of all in low­ly stall
The ox and ass be­hold.

Th’al­mig­hty Word whom hosts adored
A si­lent in­fant lay;
The sun grows old, its beam falls cold;
What mean these mar­vels? Say!